


short days, long nights and phenomena

by juliettes



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: (for lucas), Eliott is Weak, M/M, Magic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Witches, it's canon even in a non-canon setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 03:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18682942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliettes/pseuds/juliettes
Summary: admittedly, eliott did realize that he was feeling a little dizzy onlyafterthe bathroom door bangs open and they scramble apart and lucas nearly falls off his chair from how fast it slides back to an unsuspecting distance.(eliott has a bit of magic and lucas is a hurricane.)





	short days, long nights and phenomena

**Author's Note:**

> a small, random little thing that is testament to how elu have turned me into a mushy mess incapable of writing anything angsty (oh, how i miss pain). 
> 
> thanks for reading. <3

it happens as lucas is doing homework, legs crossed, fingers tapping absent-mindedly on his knee, a staccato rhythm inches away from eliott's thigh. it begins innocently, of course. most things often do in the privacy of eliott's apartment, away from the prying eyes of everyone else at lucas' place, away from the thin walls separating each room. there's warmth from lucas' body eliott can feel even under the fabric of his clothes. eliott fails to concentrate, and his fingers tingle just the slightest. practically unnoticeable. lucas notices, though, because he looks up from his textbook to study him instead. shadows swallow the room into deep ambers, including the sharp contours of lucas' face, highlighter cap between his teeth.

ordinarily, that has no effect — but tonight, it does things.

"you're staring," lucas points out as he caps the highlighter. eliott shrugs, keeps on staring, unabashed. university has just ended, and while this means their days are allowed to be longer, lucas spends his time studying while eliott spends his time staring at him studying. it's clear that he doesn't mind. naturally, however, every part of his body does. lucas reaches up self-consciously to scrub at the corner of his mouth. "do i still have pizza on my face?"

"no," eliott answers, wrapping his fingers around his wrist. "just beauty." it's difficult not to laugh at how lucas bristles, blanches, _bleats_ , burning all over. cheeks shaded red, lucas punches him on the arm, wrestling him on the sofa until he's pinned to it, textbook and pencil case falling on the ground with a soft _thump,_ breathing shallow, knees on either side of eliott's thighs.

lucas smiles, or smirks. there's humming in the air that feels entirely electric. "say that again?"

the boy looms over him and eliott is in love, so in love. " _you're a little shit_."

at that, lucas huffs, boyishly, sitting back on his lap. eliott props himself up by the forearms to grin. _he's cute_ , the thought never fails to emerge, but then all of a sudden lucas climbs forward, on his hips, and he sucks in a breath at the dizzying proximity, his smell, red, red lips nearing and—

"i think the curtains are on fire."

it takes a moment too long for eliott to register his words, too bewitched, turning his head to see flames crawl up the pale cream curtains in rapid strokes, burning hot. he curses, lucas lets out a snicker. with a flick of a wrist the fire dies out immediately. around them, it smells weirdly of charred flowers. a few blackened pieces of curtain float in the air before settling on the ground, eventually lying in a dismal scatter across the wooden floor.

they stare at it.

" _shit_ , i—" lucas decides it's best to climb off him, laughing, blush on his cheeks. he's not wrong. it doesn't happen all the time, but sometimes, unintentionally, his magic goes out of control, and the result often varies. mostly, it ends with a trip to a furniture store. other times, an electronics store, or maybe a clothing store, too. 

"another time, then," is what lucas says over his shoulder, picking up the textbook and pencil case from the ground. maybe eliott complains a bit, hooking his fingers around lucas' belt loops, ignoring the light layer of smoke drifting out the window. the new curtains can wait. eliott can't. "you're going to burn the entire fucking apartment down." lucas kisses him, chastely — eliott is fast to tug him back in, arms winding around his waist, clingy and wanting. almost at once the windows slam shut, rattling on its hinges. eliott leans his forehead against his, chuckling. "and i'm going to have to clean up after you," lucas says, breathy.

"the building can crumble if it wants."

"what — so you can also make my apartment collapse instead?"

"no—," eliott is already leaning in again, "because you're probably there with me."

 

the apartment is as quiet as the grave on sunday mornings.

when eliott steps out of lucas' room it smells of coffee and eggs and bread, and the sight that greets him in the kitchen is even better (eliott's shirt falling just mid-thigh, collarbones, soft skin, barefoot)("you're drooling." "— from the food, lucas." " _right_ , because the stove is so hot it's burning our breakfast and a hole through the pan.") "eggs?" lucas asks, toward the cupboards.

two sets of knives and forks are set out on the small table, lucas sets out the food. they eat in soft silence, eliott occasionally looking up to see lucas smiling at him from across the table, then watching him quickly avert his eyes, flushed red. there's a certain allurement to seeing lucas squirm, eliott reckons, and it's something he could get used to seeing every morning.

"i should cook breakfast for you again," eliott offers, sipping on the last of the coffee in his mug, two sugars, a dash of milk, just how he likes it. the plate in front of him is clean. lucas' is, too.

he inhales and says, somewhat appalled, "i don't think i can buy a new stomach."

shrugging, eliott smiles, inching forward until their knees touch under the table, slotting against each other, fingers twined. they stay like that. for a while, at least. underneath his touch, the skin on lucas' thigh is warm and soft, and rubbing his thumb over it, a little sinewy. eliott hears his breathing go a little stuttery the further he edges upwards, feeling the seam of the bottom of his briefs, grip on his wrist tightening. the small noise lucas lets out is borderline obscene.

admittedly, eliott did realize that he was feeling a little dizzy only _after_ the bathroom door bangs open and they scramble apart and lucas nearly falls off his chair from how fast it slides back to an unsuspecting distance.

admittedly, lucas' mouth often has that kind of effect.

"the bathroom's fucking _flooded_ , lucas."

that, eliott can fix. but mika doesn't let him back in the apartment for another two weeks. and, unfortunately, eliott isn't allowed to even consider making lucas' apartment building collapse.

 

"we have to do something about this." every word is punctuated by a kiss on eliott's throat, his neck, his jaw, and every object in their vicinity levitates, books flapping, keys on his piano playing every discordant combination of notes possible. if he doesn't flood, burn, or make the entire building float he'll probably be kicked out before the lease ends. actually, it's definite with the rate of the hands that play with the waistband of his jeans as they tug, and pull, and push.

"in the ocean," eliott finally mutters against his mouth.

lucas pulls away and pretends to consider, hair a halo on the pillow (all the sketches pinned to the wall flutter). "you'd cause a tsunami instead."

"motel?"

"who's paying the bill afterward?"

everything seems to huff alongside eliott's exhale when lucas' pants finally come off, unaware of the small apocalypse he's started, hands fumbling, too many zippers all of a sudden. everywhere around them seems to turn hazardous wherever lucas is; the shelf holding glass jars of herbs and oddities shivers, hinges creaking, and it doesn't help that eliott has an affinity for collecting things his heart is fond of. lucas starts mouthing a path down his chest. the wires almost burn. "wait — _lucas_." eliott has to breathe out. the sounds of a fake plant, notebooks, and a mug dropping to the floor reverberates throughout the apartment. he groans and lucas laughs, a breathy sort of cackle that has eliott laughing, too.

down to their underwear, lucas cuddles him, head tucked under his chin, too tangled up in each other to move. "you're ridiculous."

"it's not my fault you're too hot." lucas glances up, smug, pleased. eliott kisses his hair. "it's true, _you're magic_."

"are all witches like this?"

"what — like shatter glasses and burn things?" eliott frowns, rubbing slow circles on his hip. there's a light tinkering of the piano coming from outside the bedroom. it is a vague resemblance of  _moonlight sonata_ , like what lucas played a few nights before. he hums, pressing light kisses on eliott's jaw. "only around you." _just you_.

"just me," lucas echoes so low, as if not to anyone, feeling him smile against his skin.

eliott's heart skips too many beats, and so do the lights. "just you."

 

on their first date eliott takes him out to a nice restaurant. lucas smells slightly sweet and slightly of expensive cologne, and he looks good, and eliott knows that this won't end well. "so what do you do?" lucas asks, voice just as pretty as he looks, and eliott feels himself choke on the words in his throat. two glasses of red wine separate them. the burgundy liquid inside ripples almost imperceptibly on the surface.

eliott takes a sip of it. "i draw." and then, hastily, adds: "— amongst other things."

"maybe i already knew that." an awkward laugh comes out, lucas' eyes crinkle when he does.

the rest of dinner goes by relatively normally, aside from the waiter that trips over a cart gone astray or the champagne flute shattering twenty metres away when lucas slides closer to him on the booth seat. afterwards they step out into the light drizzle with their fingers tentative, lucas pressing his nails into his palm, gently, prying it open, fitting them against one another. their hand-holding feels unnecessarily good as they stumble through the sleepy streets, laughing too loud, purposely taking the longer way to lucas' apartment because it's still early, we've got until midnight and i don't want to go home yet. eventually they stand outside the steps to lucas' place, the light rain making everything in the background shine. "it was fun tonight," lucas says, sounding the slightest bit hopeful. eliott traces the lines on his palm with his thumb. "we'll see each other soon?"

"definitely."

a brief silence. "i don't want tonight to end just yet." the words are implying, and eliott feels a fever burn inside his chest.

"it doesn't have to," he replies with a shrug. lucas cranes his neck and eliott is acutely aware of how lucas smells and looks and for a second too long wonders how he would taste. around them, streetlamps flicker, restless, shadows dipping in and out of the contours of his face. lucas doesn't seem like he's caught on because he stands on his toes, arms around his neck, tugging at his hair.

one by one, the streetlamps blink, quivering out. "okay, what the f—"

eliott is sheepish. "magic," he tries to explain, embarrassed. lucas' eyes widen. "fuck — listen, lucas, there's something i need to tell you—"

"magic?" lucas cuts him, snorting, disbelieved, though slightly unsure. eliott nods. lucas studies him for a while. this time he draws eliott down to eye level. " _magic."_ lucas kisses him (lights flitter back on). eliott kisses him back (the rain becomes a downpour). he's very swift to keep it chaste, but lucas is viciously appealing, his mouth pink and pouty when they break apart a fraction. "prove it." his voice is breathy, like air can't get to him fast enough.

"what do you want to see?"

lucas looks around, droplets sliding down his neck and disappearing under his collar. "make it stop raining."

nodding, eliott moves an easy hand, until the rain turns back into a light drizzle. lucas blinks. raindrops are still clung onto his eyelashes, so eliott raises a hand, brushing them away. "do you believe me now?" he asks, carefully. "are you freaking out?"

"no. yes — i don't know."

"that's normal."

"i know that i still want to see you, though," lucas blurts. eliott smiles for what is probably the fifty-seventh time tonight. "i mean — if you want to see me, too. even without any magical abilities and all."

"i want to see you, lucas."

a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "okay."

" _okay_."

lucas kisses him again. for purely scientific purposes, of course, marvelling at the mild cataclysm eliott's caused inside his neighbourhood, the clouds that clear and reveal all the convoluted patterns of the universe. magic touches lucas in odd ways, or maybe it's just him, though he claims he doesn't fully believe it until the seventh kiss and the third date. eliott doesn't mind at all.

(that day and other particular days are commonly referred to as meteorological phenomena, and lucas decides that the only appropriate place to move is space when they end up picking up shards of broken glass after making out for half an hour.)

**Author's Note:**

> you can send me prompts [here](https://unquaintly.tumblr.com/ask)!


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